


your soul outweighs my own

by derogatory



Category: Warchild Series - Karin Lowachee
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV First Person, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derogatory/pseuds/derogatory
Summary: Maybe a jet will stomp my skull on the deck and it'll split open like a fruit. Maybe that's the only way to stop thinking about Jos.
Relationships: Evan D'Silva/Jos Musey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	your soul outweighs my own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phnelt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phnelt/gifts).



Me and this jet got exactly ten minutes to screw before his roommate shows up.

We'd have more time if we used my q, but I got limits on what I'll do in a room I share with Jos. I mean, I'll get on my knees in there as long as I know Jos is gonna be gone the rest of the shift. If I've got the time I can do something that's not too messy, won't stink up the room with sex. But most people don't want that when they know I'll go all the way for free. I'll go all the way and farther, I can loop planets a couple of times and these dipshit jets don't even get I'm charging them more than the old rate. With jets I get paid for it later when they think we're old pals. Favors and shit. Used to be the only payment I got was I got to keep breathing. 

Nine minutes. Lookin' at this little jet, I'd figured ten minutes for a screw was being generous. After a while of doing this kinda stuff, you get good at reading those parts of people; what they're into, how many bruises I'll have to cover up later. Things haven't been that bad in a long while. Now it's more like how long I gotta lie against their side until one of us comes up with some excuse for leaving. Ten minutes had seemed like too long for a guy this small, but he keeps coming up with surprises.

So. Nine minutes, small guy. Small but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. 'Enthusiasm.' That's a cute new term jets use. The military has a way of cleaning shit up like that. Nowadays people say stuff like somebody is 'enthusiastic in bed.' But back then, how I learned it, what these guys call 'enthusiasm.' I'd have called a 'grudge.' Between the sheets and up against the walls when partners are all greedy and handsy, working fast and hard. Men and women that got something to prove and then they prove it all on me. Way I saw it, every pirate and cocktail had that kind of 'enthusiasm' when they got me alone. 

As usual, jets ain't so different, even if they like to think they are.

Eight minutes. I could do better with longer, with someone bigger, with somebody I gave half a damn about. But this is fine. This guy knew a guy and that guy knew me. Apparently I come highly recommended. And he's halfway cute, in a short way. I'm taller than him, but you can't tell that when we're both lying down. He fits over me well enough, inside me. My hands link behind his neck and his military-short hair brushes against my palms. It's not soft when I run my hands through it, testing. His hips jerk forward. Guess he liked that. 

After this I gotta go to the library and finish up some other, more honest work. Sitting adrift in space there's not much I can scrounge up for ship-wide entertainment. But I gotta be prepared if we get any opportunities to keep a ship as stuffed as ours occupied. That's my job, keeping morale high and jets happy. I can only screw so many people at once, you know?

Our bodies slap wet together, deafeningly loud.

I'll go back to the room and take a shower. Then work in the library. When I'm done there, it'll be about the time Ryan finishes a lesson. We can go to the mess hall together and afterward maybe I'll let him play some trash music in my q. That sounds all right. I stretch my body out under the jet's, hook my ankles behind him. Got the whole rest of my gold shift planned.

The sculpted panes of his stomach scrape rough against my dick. He's moving fast. Making good use of our time. His thighs are strong, all thin strips of muscle pulsing with power even if he's such a shortie. He's smaller than me but stronger. Kinda like Jos. The thought of Jos hit me low in my gut and suddenly there's something wet between us. I didn't even notice I was close. That's embarrassing.

The jet notices it, must've felt me clench up around him. Grunts a little.

"Sorry," I hurry through an apology because he looks mad. "I just really like you." Sure, what's-your-name, I like you and that's why I blew my load with six minutes to spare. I don't think it's one of my more convincing plays, but I guess he buys it. He buys the line and likes it, and my body hitches under him, jolts of sensitivity as he rocks forward. He shifts and pushes my knees almost to my shoulders on the next thrust. I know better than to argue.

He seems pretty caught up in it, so I turn my face against the sheets, follow a weird condensation line on the wall. It drips like the sweat between us. I'd told him not to finish inside, but surprise, nobody listens to me. I don't get too mad; I don't have the luxury, even on this pleasure cruise Azarcon's running. 

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing when he goes to kiss me goodbye. Jets are something else.

When I get back for a shower, Jos is sitting in his bunk. He looks suspicious. Of what? I didn't do it in here, so he's got nothing to complain about. But Jos still thinks big enough of himself to hate what I do without knowing any of the details. That kinda stuff is beneath him after all. I wonder if Jos even knows what part goes where.

I mean, I know he knows, but like. Consensually.

"Evan." He catches me staring so I make a beeline for the shower. Pretend like I didn't hear him.

It's a dumb thing to think about; Jos and screwing. He's already told me what he thinks about it. Falcone must've wrung him dry. Now he doesn't have the stomach for it. Maybe I shouldn't want to do it either. 

I stand under the shower 'till the water cycles cold.

  


  


* * *

  


  


On the way back from the library, some jet checks shoulders with me when he passes. It'll bruise next shift, but what the hell doesn't? I move when somebody moves me. It doesn't bug me, but Ryan noticed it, swears under his breath like he's the one who got hit. I used to think Ryan was cute and dumb, but he gets smarter with each bit of him that gets chipped away. Life keeps clawing at him and if it takes enough eventually he'll be almost like me. Though I don't get any smarter, while he learns lots. And stays just as cute.

Ryan turns and follows that jet with his eyes. Looks pissed. Jets are smart enough not to put hands on him, but they'll make an exception if Ryan goes looking for trouble.

"Don't worry about me," I say and 'cause he's close I reach over and press my fingers to a spot on Ryan's wrist. His pulse is slow, then it goes wild just before he tugs away. He watches me like he's not sure what he's supposed to make of me. Real cute.

"Those guys are assholes," Ryan hisses, "I don't like that shit." He rubs at his wrist like I burned him. Just from touching. 

I grin like a reflex. "I'm used to it."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"So?" Ryan is all conflicted-like. He wants there to be rules and reason on his dad's ship. He doesn't wanna just accept that sometimes life rides you hard and nobody can do anything about it. "It's fine," I say, and then meaner, "Maybe your bodyguard can take care of me." Ryan really doesn't like that. Which is fine; I'd rather he be pissy at me than some nondescript Private who's so strung out about _Archangel_ he's gotta take it out on a scrub kid like me. 

Ryan used to be touchier about all sorts of shit here, but like I said, the kid adjusts faster than you'd think. He's like the kids on _Shiva_ I figured wouldn't last a shift, but they stayed around for weeks. I got used to their faces, shifting from sweet to empty. I searched for that sweetness in my eyes, but it's gone; it'd probably died years back before I even noticed it was gone. After that, other kids were a mirror where I watched it die. Then they adjusted or died too.

Ryan makes me feel stupid for remembering that shit. He sees me slip away sometimes and rubs elbows with me until I snap out of it. I don't know if he gets that's where I go or he just wants attention. Cute.

Sometimes he's so cute I wanna kiss him, but I get he wouldn't let me. A guy like Ryan wouldn't want to fool around without knowing where it would go. He ain't like me, he's the type to keep his body for someone special. We'd screw, but then what? He'd try and kiss me goodbye too. Everybody makes plans after fucking except for me. Then there's Jos's voice in my head, saying the same old dumb shit he always does. _You never plan things through._ He'll get mad at me and then I'll start getting mad at him. Maybe one of these days I'll get close to Jos in an argument and maybe one time he doesn't twist away. Jos could lift his chin and close his hands around my waist. Smaller than me but stronger than me.

"You're not hungry?" Ryan asks. We made it to the mess but I'm somewhere else, waves away.

I shake my head, shove my tray of food aside. Dorr and Madi drop on it, ribbing some shit about how I'm watching my figure. I grin but I don't feel it. I'm too caught up in something else. Not sure what. Maybe just feeling weird cause Ryan was looking out for me. Maybe I'm spaced out from thinking about how cute the Cap's son looks under the ship lights. Or maybe it's all still just some holdover from that jet thinking I liked him. 

Or probably I feel lousy 'cause I've been wondering about Jos and screwing. 

Ryan sees me stewing in my own head and he's worried. Across the table, Jos sees it too and… Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes I think I've got the guy all figured out, and other times I never know how he feels. Ryan looks at me and I can read his whole life. Jos looks at me and it's like staring out the window into empty space. Just nothing staring back at me, cold and distant and locked behind a million layers of plexiglass. From there I can lay my hand on the window and think big nothing thoughts. _You never plan things through._

I look at Jos long enough he looks away. It's not any kind of victory, just cold. Staring at a black hole that blinks first.

  


  


* * *

  


  


Warboy visits. Him and a little gang of strits. Turns out I mind aliens less than I thought I would. It's just the Warboy that sets me on edge. He's not too scary; definitely doesn't live up to the stuff they said about him on _Shiva_ , but I wasn't on that boat to do a ton of listening. Here on _Macedon_ I gotta listen and learn. Part of adapting. Apparently it's a skill Warboy taught Jos too. But Jos is as stubborn as a rusted part. Guess maybe Warboy's a better fighter than a teacher. 

When Warboy comes on board, it lets me know when Jos is gonna be scarce. Scarce, but Warboy always brings him back. One time it seemed like he wouldn't, after Falcone had us a second time and Jos more than others. But then Jos came back for some reason, visiting Warboy only sometimes, and I'd adapted into thinking I'd get to keep him. 

Jos says he and Warboy will go to Aaian-na soon. Doesn't know how long it'll be. Sometimes he reminds me of their trip when he's picking up my stuff from the floor. I won't be here and you'll gonna make a mess. I lie back on the bunk and don't argue. Other times Jos talks about it like a threat. Like he knows it bugs me so I better shape up. Or what? He won't come back? 

It'll happen any shift now. He won't be around to pick up after me, to shoot me mean looks, to keep me from screwing in my own room. Any shift now Jos'll be gone. Then what?

I don't bother learning how to pronounce Warboy's ship. Jos looks mad as hell when I mangle the pronunciation, but Warboy seems to like it, thinks it's funny. Lots of guys have said they like seeing words come outta my mouth. 

He walks between me and Jos like he knows he's needed there. Just 'cause Jos and me rarely walk side by side. Jos leads, I follow. We did it differently before, but he was littler then. Shorter legs. Now he's still short, but I walk slower. Warboy stays between us, keeps us walking in the same step. I don't get why. I wouldn't mind walking behind them. I've never asked Jos to wait for me 'cause we both know he wouldn't.

Lots more aliens on his ship. I'm real good at not staring. Probably as good as if I'd been the one raised on their bizarro planet. Plucked outta Falcone's hands and brought up all symp-like. Would I be a prude like Jos if Warboy had saved me? Do Strits not know how to have fun? No wonder Jos wants to go back.

Nah. Because, sure, Warboy could've saved me if I ran, but I didn't. Maybe that's my fault. It's like Jos has said I didn't fight it enough. It doesn't matter who got me because I'd end up the same. Not a prude. Just some dumb thing buying my way to another place where I'm not wanted. So there's no point imagining some other way it could've gone. I know how it happened. He saved Jos and Jos saved me. And when I watch the two of them talk in a weird sing-song language I don't get, I think; Maybe Jos feels the same way about Warboy like I feel about Jos.

There's a weird prickling at the corner of my eyes. Must be from how the ship smells. 

"Are you all right?" I don't look up at the Warboy. My hands don't look right somehow. They keep moving around so I keep them clenched tight. "Evan-na."

I don't like the way he says my name. 

He's looking at me, Jos now too. I don't know how to answer that. I'm all right, even if you didn't come for me. I'm all right because I saved myself, not because you saved Jos and it's some trickle-down rescue effect. I'm all right even if you're gonna take Jos to that planet and I know he won't come back.

Warboy rescued Jos not just 'cause he ran. He saved Jos because everybody wants Jos more than they want me. From this ship I can't pronounce, to _Macedon_ , to Falcone. I just get sold between bodies that want mine, with the occasional person taking parts for free.

We walk together, Warboy between us, and I know Jos will leave me behind.

  


  


* * *

  


  


Another shift but Ryan's not around, so those jets from before decide to give me something rougher than a bruised shoulder. A boot comes down between my shoulder blades and my body gets real still. My brain hates it, but I learned how to pry the two apart. Jos always complains I get myself into this shit. I don't know how true that is. I mean, it's not like I walk around asking random jets with something to prove to kick my ass. Like Ryan says, I didn't do anything wrong. There's just something about me that sets people on edge. Not just the pirate thing — this was happening long before I got scooped off _Shiva._ My whole life I'm just too loud, too stupid, too pretty. Get too much attention.

Then again, pretty was the only thing that kept me alive for a while. If I was uglier I'd be dead. If I was a worse fuck I'd be dead. If Jos didn't know me I'd be dead. Azarcon and _Macedon_ wouldn't have broken their stride for me and the outriders would've got me. Or something else. Maybe there's something worse.

Here's not like that. Jos said that once, mostly to the wall, partially to me.

_Then I won't be here long,_ I'd thought. Somehow I'm still here but it sure as hell don't feel safe when a jet presses his foot down, and it hurts, I can't breathe —

I suck in a greedy gulp of air when the boot's removed. I recognize the sound of the punches above me and grin against the decks. Jos swings at them with those silent, clipped fighting moves he learned planetside. Kid moves like a dancer. I was never great at that part of Geisha training; maybe Jos would've been. I stay low to the ground. A while back I learned when someone pushes you down you stay there. I wonder if Jos ever learned that. Maybe that's why he got away on Chaos. He learned not to stay put when they leave the cage doors unlocked. 

Jets are all high and mighty about how they ain't pirates, but that doesn't mean they'll fight fair. A third jet comes up behind Jos and holds him still. My gut sinks below the decks. This isn't how things are supposed to happen. Normally I get beat up and Jos saves me. He gripes about it, I ignore him, and the asshole jets keep doing it. It's a fun game we've all learned how to play. But I guess today something's got the privates riled up enough they're going off-book. Blood pounds in my ears, my hands scrape against the floors as I get to my feet.

I've hit guys before. What I was a kid I was all struggle, but I guess it's been a while. I'm not good at fighting, and the jet is a solid wall when I punch him. He doesn't move, but it does loosen his hold on Jos. Jos shoves his fist into the guy's neck and it sends the jerk crumpling to the floor. Jets scatter away from us and I'm left alone in the corridor with a pissy looking Jos. Everything's back to normal.

"Thanks," I say, try not to mean it too much.

Jos is looking at me so intensely I worry maybe the jets messed up my face. I poke at my teeth with my tongue- same chip as always, nothing new. Swipe my palm over my cheeks looking for blood. They come up clean but Jos is still staring.

"What?"

"Don't do that," Jos snaps. Do what? "Don't try and help. You don't have any clue how to defend yourself."

Sure I do. Maybe I didn't learn fancy strit fighting, but I had to go through the same training he did. And I learned a lot more from the pirates than whatever Falcone taught him. And now I'm learning how to divorce myself from Cap and those lessons. I taught myself, she was just nearby. I'd learned how to use my body, she'd just been the one giving me the incentive. Everything I can do is because of me, not thanks to her or any other pirate that put hands on me. My survival was all on me, not because of or for anybody else. Nobody helped besides Jos and he won't even take credit for that.

Still, my hand where I punched the jet hurts like hell. My knuckles are starting to swell. "I think I broke my hand."

"See?" Jos goes on, his voice weird and tight with adrenaline. "Just let me handle it."

"You aren't here all the time." I rub at my fist. It hurts to open it too wide. "You're going away, remember?"

Jos opens his mouth. Closes it. He looks so stupid sometimes. "You don't have to keep bringing that up."

"Well you are." Anyway, he's the one who brings it up all the time. "It's fine, I'll live." I don't wanna stand around and argue with Jos where other people can listen in. Honestly, Jos barely talks to me this much in public anyway, I wouldn't want to sully his reputation. 

Then, "I could teach you," Jos says. Even he looks surprised he said something like that.

"Yeah?" I can't help laughing. "Like how you taught Ryan strit?" Jos's mouth gets all downturned and fussy. Ryan's language lessons hadn't ended well for anybody. "Forget it, I can take care of myself." Quick and silent, Jos is right next to me. His fingers are on my sore hand, prying it open. 

"You should go to medbay," he says, quieter. He's being real gentle considering he just throat punched some other guy. He's never hit me. Even when I did all kinds of weird shit to him when I first arrived, he wouldn't hit me like that. My skin feels itchy where he's touching. He doesn't usually touch me either. He's still breathing hard from the fight.

"Fine," I say and snake out of his grip. Jos is a pain to argue with and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this kind of thing. Offering to help me fight. Touching my hand.

He follows me when I leave, but I can lose him in the stairwell. It's stupid to run away from Jos when we share a q, but. I can't stand there and look at him looking at me, hand on mine, sweat on his face from fighting for me. Defending me. I never asked him to do it, and I know eventually it'll stop. What, he teaches me how to fight and that will make it easier when he's gone? My steps down flight after flight of stairs echos loud around me. Jos's light footsteps get farther away. Good. He doesn't really want me around anyway. I'm just reading into this shit all wrong because I'm stupid. Jos touching my hand, offering to teach me, to spend time with me. It doesn't mean anything. I can't keep getting into the same situations with Jos and expecting them to go different. No matter how many jets I go around with, I'm beginning to worry there's somebody else I want in my bed.

"Hey." Speak of the devil. The little jet I screwed the other day is crouched on one of the landings, enjoying a cig. He looks so sweet and surprised. Cute. Is that what I'm into now? Cute? Maybe I dealt with hard things for so long I'm overcorrecting. 

"You all right?" he asks, standing to his full height. Not too tall. Just like Jos. I back him up to the railing before I know I'm doing it. Muscle memory. What I'm good at anyway. "Hey," he says and smiles in a crooked way that's not like Jos at all.

I have no idea what I'm doing. I know the steps of it, obviously, but why I'm going for it now when I was just arguing with Jos. I latch my mouth against the jet's neck, guide his hands between my legs. Jos wants to teach me how to fight, but I'd just disappoint him. The only thing I've ever been good at is this shit.

The jet gets the idea, and it's only a couple of minutes after his teammates had me against the floor, this guy's got me moaning. I probably should learn his name. Maybe not; he's just some stand-in for Jos anyway. He pants hot against my shoulder and I bite my tongue until it bleeds when I come. I don't deserve anything nice for thinking about Jos like that. He wants me to learn how to fight to survive without him, but maybe I'll just find somebody like him. Then Jos can leave and I'll only think about him when I screw.

  


  


* * *

  


  


I am officially the worst person on this boat. They don't need to run a poll or a test whatever; I just know down to my bones that there's nobody on _Macedon_ worse than me, the pirate whore who can't stop thinking about Jos and screwing. 

It's this fun thing that happens after somebody beats you up, after you go crawling into other people's beds for comfort. I just feel worse. All those years doing both of it so much it felt next to normal, but the aftermath is the same. I feel sticky and sore and terrible. And now is the fun aftereffect of knowing, really knowing, I'm just a gross guy who wants to have sex with _Jos_ of all people.

It's not like I don't think nobody else wants him. Jos isn't exactly popular but he's not a bad looking kid. There's that sawbones chick Aki, she wants him. She'll be nice to me just to get his attention, but it's useless. Not like Jos even sees me half the time. Anyway, he'd more than likely kick somebody's ass before he'd fuck them, but hey, jets are into all kinds of things. It's not my job to shame them. Catering to kinks and shit is what bought my ride. Azarcon can say different but we both know what I do. Not that kicking anybody's ass is my strong suit. My knuckles still hurt from hitting that jet, his shoulder was like a cement block. I've always been better at taking punches than throwing them. 

And now I throw one slug for Jos, I let Jos beat up some guys for me, offer to teach me, and all of a sudden I can't stop thinking about it. Jos's chest going up and down with each breath. His laser stare on me. Of course I'd fight to help Jos. If anything happened to him, the last remainders of what I've got from the past is dead. Dead like the corpses of our family they left to rot on _Mukudori_. So I'd do anything to keep that. Put myself in harm's way. Stand back to back with Jos and go down fighting; me first. I shouldn't worry about Jos getting hurt. He can take care of himself.

But it would have been nice if he'd thanked me. Maybe then I wouldn't have got all wound up, watching him watching me, touching my hand, sweat on his lip. He'd kill me for that. But maybe that's the shit I'm into now too.

Thoughts like this don't let me get any sleep. It'd be easier if I could talk to somebody about it, but Ryan would go apoplectic if I told him I wanted to sleep with Jos. They'd bring me to the brain doc. Cut my skull open and study what about me makes me so stupid. I survived violence for long enough now I like it even when it comes from somebody like Jos. It's been written all over my brain - disgusting, gross. _Pirate._

I roll onto my side and stare at the wall until I go cross-eyed in the dark. If I listen hard enough I can hear Jos breathing on the other side of the q. If I looked over my shoulder I'd probably see the outline of one of his legs through the blankets. Follow it up all the way to his thighs. Doesn't seem right the only person who'd been able to touch him there was a bastard like Falcone.

It'll be better when Jos leaves. Maybe I'll become a halfway normal person. Maybe a jet will stomp my skull on the deck and it'll split apart like a fruit. Maybe that's the only way to stop thinking about Jos.

  


  


* * *

  


  


A couple of jets corner me. You'd think with all the work I put into making sure there are movies and magazines and entertaining shit on this ship, these jets would have better things to do than mess with me, but. Whatever. It's easy. I've always been easy.

"Did you know?" one of the slabs of muscle asks. I bet if I tried to punch him I'd break all the bones in my hand. 

"Know what?" People say you gotta be smart to survive what I did, but the reality is you always gotta be dumb. Nobody's ever been interested in me for my brain.

"Pirates set _Shiva_ 's captain loose." the other guard says, or somebody says, because all of a sudden everything around me goes real quiet. "Bet this guy helped ‘em."

Nobody's talked about _Shiva_ in ages. There have been so many other attacks, raiding Townsend's old ship is like a millenia ago. I always played around with the name in my head, but I wouldn't say it out loud. Not really moving on, just hoping it would die without oxygen like a body jettisoned out into space.

If someone shot me right there, I bet I wouldn't even notice. Let my guts trail over the deck and I'd still stand there like an idiot. Wouldn't even be smart enough to fall. 

The jets don't push at me this time, just leave laughing. Obviously this kinda shit is better than a beating. My head's practically spinning. _Shiva_ 's captain is loose. They could be lying but why would they bother. I'm a pirate, right? So obviously I'd be happy the bitch who tortured me for decades or whatever is just walking free again? There's no reason they didn't just kick my ass again. I'd have been happy for it; a boot to my skull to knock all these thoughts out. Cap is back. Townsend is out somewhere in space and I'm here, a place where nobody wants me. Where nobody can protect me.

I gotta figure out where to go, I can't keep standing here like an idiot. I should go look up the news. I don't normally, I'm not like Jos, I don't go looking for information about the shit I went through. I was there, I knew how _Mukudori_ died, what does it matter how it lived? It's been long enough that ship's probably got torn up by some station's pull, so it's scrap metal, and the dead people they left to rot are all dust. And Cap went to prison and that's more than I needed to know. So I never looked at the news past entertainment shit, but maybe that was a mistake. I should've stayed up with what's happening. Maybe then I'd have figured out how Townsend broke out of prison, where she's at. How close she is to us. I didn't think of that. Not once, not ever. Nobody's ever been interested in me for my brain.

Other jets walk around me. Can't stand here. I have to move. 

'Course Cap would get free. They should've put a bolt in her skull the second she wouldn't talk. They should've known prisons don't hold pirates for long. Azarcon ought to know that better than anyone, but he's an old man now and Falcone didn't teach him good enough. Thought I was shit for learning but even I get that. Now she's out and no reading the news, no fact-checking those jet bastards will change it. She's out and she's pissed, she's always pissed but she's gotta know I talked. She wouldn't talk but she'd know I did. 

I don't make it to the library. Not even the service stairwell. I'm real used to walking when I'd rather stay on the floor. But you can't stay there, D'Silva, get up and go, let me watch you walk away, I'll see you soon —

The lev lurches downwards and my stomach hikes up into my throat. Jets get on and off at different floors. Some of them look at me, but their looks are either not much or too long. I'm okay, probably, I'm standing. I've always been good at that, at standing after stuff happens. Even when they ripped me bloody I always had to stand after. 

Some jet glances at me when I finally press a button. She sees me and then immediately pretends she hasn't. I know that look, I saw it lots with pirates who weren't high-ranking enough to take a pass at me. I'll see those all again soon, probably.

Everybody else gets off and I ride the lev lower. Pressed a button, and when I get there I wanna walk around, see how much they fixed. I get halfway down the hall. Take a seat. This is one of the wrecked places, but it isn't the floor the pirates got us. Or maybe it is, and I don't remember the details. Things went to shit and I had to find Jos and they found us. Pirates always find what they're looking for.

Seems like a good enough place to wait for her to get me again.

My comm buzzes loud. Who knows how long it's been.

**[ RYAN: ] hey where are you** 


Maybe he doesn't know. Baby Azarcon doesn't need to be kept in the loop of pirate shit. Neither do I, but luckily I get all the updates 'cause I'm a collaborator. Co-conspirator. I'm pirate down to the tat branded on my arm. It bruised for weeks after I got it, hurt a lot worse than this does. Scratching doesn't hurt. Nothing seems like it hurts anymore, so I scratch at it, test I can still feel anything.

**[RYAN:] are you ok?  
[RYAN:] cmon were you at  
[RYAN:] evan** 


The next tat Townsend made me get was lower and worse, but not everybody on _Macedon_ needs to see that one. Not everybody here gets me without my clothes. Not now, but maybe soon. On another ship. A pirate ship.

  


  


* * *

  


  


"Evan." 

I'm in the medbay all of a sudden. Guess I wasn't allowed to wait down there. Aki's staring at me, puts down the light she's shining right in my eyes. 

She always has these weird smiles that are more like flinches. She wouldn't last a second with the pirates. Only she did once. She was in the cell with me when they found us, and she cried and worried when they took Jos away. She thought she knew what was waiting for Jos with Falcone. She didn't, but I knew. 

I know what's waiting for me.

I breathe out. Sawbones junk clicks and beeps around us.

"What were you doing down there?" Aki asks. I can feel her wrapping gauze around a part of me. I dunno which part because they're all the same. Someone grabs my wrist as easy as people can grab anything else of mine. I'm relearning quick what Cap taught me, what's coming back. There won't be time for a refresher course.

I shrug, maybe. Everything feels fuzzy. Maybe they doped me up or something. I'm sitting up, I flex my hands against the cold table. I think of Jos's little hand by mine. It got a lot bigger and he got different, but he's still Jos. Jos went back to Falcone and I'll go back to Cap. Only Warboy's not gonna rescue me. _Are you all right, Evan-na?_ Not for long.

"Who did that to your arm?"

It's such a weird question, 'cause Aki stopped asking who messed with me a long time ago. She used to ask back when I first started coming into medbay all roughed up. She didn't like it, but I wouldn't tell her. I don't snitch, not on jets anyway. So eventually she stopped asking. Patched me up, sent me out. Doc on _Shiva_ did that too, though after each exam he took a piece for himself for free.

I try and refocus my head into the present. Here, on _Macedon_ not _Shiva_. Not yet anyway.

Why's Aki asking that shit now? It makes me look at, the arm she's wrapped up in gauze. Over _Shiva_ 's tat. The low drumbeat of pain underneath suddenly reminds me of the scrapes of skin under my nails. I did it.

I get up too fast, the room spins. But I'm used to that. A hand behind me holds me steady. I dunno whose. Doesn't really matter.

"I'm going back to q."

Aki nods. "I'll comm someone to walk with you."

"It's fine." She's good looking but the chick never listens. Whatever, I'm cute and a bad listener too. I leave medbay without an escort; not like anybody else is gonna jump me. Aki's worried about something like that, but I'm through letting people worry about me. They didn't do it for so long that it seems pointless now. 

When I get to my room, Jos isn't there and I fall into my bed. I haven't been awake too long, but I sleep, hard.

I dream I'm back there. Or maybe I already am. Dreaming about the times they pressed my body any way it could move and other ways it shouldn't. Dreaming about all the times a cocktail's hand was at the back of my neck or closed over my throat. And black swallowing me up from all sides and thinking maybe this time is the last time. Never letting me die.

"If you wanted to die, you'd be dead by now," Cap says and points her grin at me. She lifts a gun to meet it. I'm back in the old Geisha black. Black like a funeral. Keep getting ready to die but nobody will let me. I'm precious cargo, for once.

She moves in and the barrel's close.

"You're back because you want to be here," she says and I taste metal.

Jos is there when I wake up, reading under a sliver of light.

A long time ago I swore no pirate would touch me ever again. But that was when Townsend was caught. Now that she's free, and every minute of training, every scrap of protection and promise I've made is just the razor-thin difference between my life on _Shiva_ and now. She could be back in this brig tomorrow or I could be in hers. 

I get up to go to the bathroom when it feels like Jos wants to say something. 

For a while I'm looking at the mirror without seeing myself, so I wake up, lean in. Dunno when, but I must've cried like a baby, got all these blood vessels busted around my eyes. They look like more freckles. In the back of my mind, I hear a cocktail's voice as he runs his hands over my body, those freckles: _I like your spots._

I throw myself on my knees fast and the force of what I'm about to do wrenches my head forward. My mouth catches the edge of the seat, pain slices cold metallic into my lip. I throw up every ration between now and last sweep. I give up holding my hair back. It's all gonna get sheared off again anyway. Every inch of me is going to someone else, from my hair to my spots.

When I stop, Jos is standing in the doorway.

"I heard about Townsend." Of course he did. I dunno what he expects me to say to that. "It's not happening again."

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Sure it is."

"It's not."

I don't want to argue anymore. I don't want to throw up again, or cry, or be alive. "Yeah right," I say and the inside of my mouth, my words, taste terrible. "Just like how Falcone never got you again, huh?" I don't expect it to have any effect on Jos. Almost nothing I say does. But I say that name and Jos goes all thin and rigid like a wire pulled tight. Goddamnit. "Sorry." I can't remember the last time I apologized to him. 

Jos turns to walk out and I said I didn't want to argue, but that doesn't mean I wanna be alone. "Please." 

Jos doesn't move. Thinking. He doesn't know what I need him for and I haven't figured it out. I just want him here. 

He doesn't help pick me up, I do that myself. Wash out my mouth, splash water on my face. Jos just stands there, arms at his side. Waiting. He looks so damn awkward in the reflection I start laughing at him.

"You're such a stupid kid, you know that?"

"Evan," he says, quiet. He's easy to hear when I stop laughing. "It's going to fine."

I scrub my eyes with the back of my hands. The gauze on my arms smells like the weird antiseptic Aki put on the scratches. "Sure it will."

"It won't happen again." Except it did happen again. Pirates always come collecting their lost merch. Jos knows that better than anybody. Doesn't the kid even feel shame anymore? Falcone got him back and now it's my turn for round two with Townsend.

There's a weird thought, quick like a ship shot out of the orbit: Falcone got Jos back and then he got killed for it. Maybe they'll send me back to Cap so I'll kill her.

The floor comes up quick and Jos is close and the air's real thin. He catches me out of the air before I realized I was falling. My legs don't feel real underneath me.

"Evan," he says again, louder. My vision's going into little dots. I try and scrape my hands under the bandages. I want to peel my skin away in long satisfying strips. "Evan," Jos says again in a stupid even tone of voice I fucking hate. I couldn't kill him either but I want to. I'd kill everybody on this awful ship if I could. Tear every dumb jet apart, from the ones who beat me to the ones who fucked me. Toss everybody else in space. Give Ryan that kiss I said I'd never do and then drive directly into the sun. All these things a brave person could do, a whole person, things someone who wasn't broken and worn down could do.

"Calm down," Jos says. He's broken too but he could do all of this. Maybe not the kissing, but the other stuff, for sure. What makes Jos so different from me? He was just a dumb brat and now... He can't ask me why, 'cause if that starts there's no way I'll ever stop. Why can't I kill Townsend? Why did Jos grow into someone I don't recognize? Why did it have to be _Mukudori_? Why didn't Warboy save me? Why didn't Shane save me? Why did I grow into somebody I didn't want to be? Why can't I be something else? Why can't I be something Jos likes?

"Relax," he says, but it doesn't sound like him. Not like Jos has sounded in a long time.

"I can't go back," I say. That sounds like a me I used to be. Little and scared and worthless. Lately I got too used to peace. I'm too used to the toothless possession jets have over me. And now I can't go back to how it was, I can't survive like that anymore. I'm too old, too tired, I get less cute every passing sweep.

All the air's been sucked out of the room. I make this small, pathetic wheeze sound like I'm being shunted out into space. If I'm real lucky that's all Cap will do to me.

“You won't," Jos says, softer in that voice I don't recognize still. Who is this? What happened to that kid I knew? What happened to both of us now that we're so broken? I know what happened but there has to be another reason, it can't just be that stronger people pushed us down. Everything about us is all screwed up and gross and it's because pirates like Cap stood on our necks. It happened because I let it happen, and I'll keep letting it happen —

"I won't let them take you," Jos says. His face is weirdly close, it clouds over in the way it does when he talks about Warboy and fighting and the shit he's done to stay free. "I'll stop her."

"You'll take care of me?" I ask and all of a sudden it rushes back into me, how stuff used to be. Me scared and somebody offering to keep me safe, if just for a second. Bile rises in my throat as another part of me rises in my pants.

Jos notices too. His eyes go big and I know that shit is fucked up. I know what I am. I know that I'm disgusting and pathetic — I get it. It's just — I've been thinking about it, what I want from Jos. What it means when I mix up him and screwing and I just. I don't know how to undo all the ways my dumb brain is broken.

I try and squirm away, calm myself down. But, Jos taking care of me… How's that even supposed to go? There shouldn't be another pirate captain he still has to kill; he buried his demons, I can't ask him to finish mine. And I sure as hell can't get hard just because somebody's offering to take care of me. I just want to be not here. I want none of this to have happened and that thought pounds in my skull as everything pours out of me.

I haven't cried like this in years. I can't stop. It's annoying. Someone should hit me. I should have been hit more. I should've been broken into more pieces, pieces _Macedon_ couldn't have put together again, with scraps missing, and stupidly I'd filled them with hope. 

I'm making the worst sound, a sound I haven't let myself make since I was a stupid kid. But it stops when Jos puts his lips on me. Mouth closed, a little too far left to be a real kiss, like he's out of practice. Maybe no practice. But it's still a kiss.

He pulls away; looks at me all surprised, kinda mad. Like it was me who made a move.

I don't want to die. I never did, maybe that's why I made it so long. I fought and fucked and survived because I'm a coward who doesn't want to be all alone in the dark. Kissing Jos feels like that, an inky blankness of space coiling around me, swallowing me up. I'm more scared than before.

"What'd you do that for?" I say. Jos moves back, and I reach for him. "Wait. Can we do it again?"

He doesn't look too sure. Can't blame him, I'm probably pretty snotty and gross looking. Not to mention what's happening between my legs. I take some big gulpy breathes pull up my shirt to wipe myself clean. Gave myself hiccups from crying.

The only way I used to stay alive was by reading people. How did I miss you?

"Say something." 

Jos is running all sorts of dumb, stubborn thoughts in his head. "I thought about it."

I wipe my nose with the back of my sleeve. "What's that mean?"

Pissed look. What a fussy kid. "What I said. I thought about it." I got no clue what 'it' means here. My chest is tight, my nose is wet. Jos is still doing mental math or whatever. "What'd it be like to," he trails off.

"... Kiss me?" There's no way this is real. Cap already scooped me up and I'm hallucinating. I move to grab Jos and he shrugs me away easy. "What the hell — You're messing with me."

"I'm serious," Jos says. He scowls and pushes me back again. I don't get it, I will never get Jos, the two of us will share a space forever and I'll never get him. And I especially don't get things when Jos rests his hand over the bulge in my pants.

"Whoa." There's nothing else to fucking say. Jos shouldn't have a clue what this means. I mean, I know he knows what it is, I get he's done it, but that's Falcone, it doesn't count. The stuff with pirates don't count. Maybe for me, but not somebody like Jos whose stupid hand just sits there, he's not even moving it —

"Jos." I'm going to explode. I gotta close my eyes 'cause I can't have Jos looking at me like that. He must take it as an invitation because his mouth is back, closed and over mine. He doesn't know anything about kissing. Pirates don't usually teach you that.

He's kissing but then he's pulling his hand away and this has got to be another nightmare. I'm gonna wake up on the floor of the bathroom and never be able to look Jos in the eyes again. I sure as shit can't look at him _now_ , I don't wanna know why he's got his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back, crumpled up weird between the toilet and the wall. I washed my mouth out but my breath is probably terrible. I open my mouth just a little, testing. He doesn't know what to do with it, but I'm not too lousy of a teacher. He doesn't take tongue easy, but it goes slowly, a couple of kisses into it.

"Oh, fuck," I say as Jos presses a knee between my legs, putting pressure against my cock through my clothes. Jos jolts with the groan I make like he didn't expect it. What, didn't Falcone make noise when they — No, I don't wanna think about that. Just once in my fucking life, I want to be away from pirates and that shit. Just be curled up with Jos who's got no reason to be touching me. I've got no clue why he'd just stay there and let me grind into his leg.

Maybe he's just doing all this to stop me from thinking about Cap. It's working at least. Being scared ebbs in the distance like a dim star.

"I heard you before," Jos says but I don't know how I can hear him when my heart is pounding in my ears. "In the stairs." With the little jet, after the fight. I can't say nothing, every time I open my mouth to talk just a bunch of embarrassing noises spill out.

"So?" I finally manage. Talking between kissing is hard. Everything about me is hard. 

"I thought about what'd it be like." Jos is talking low and fast, like if he gives himself a chance to think he'll stop. "To hear you make those sounds for me."

"Jos." What the hell else am I going to say? His palms lay flat against my chest. He can probably feel my heart thumping underneath. Feel each ragged suck of air as I try not to pass out again from how good this feels, how warm Jos is. His hand is close enough he could slide it up and choke me. I don't want that, but even that would be more in line with Jos's normal behavior than what he's doing now. I turn my head, tuck it against his shoulder. I want to tug him close, breathe in everything of him. That's probably not allowed, but Jos is being so close and nice and I've been good for so long. It's been so long since something nice happened to me.

I come so hard I see spots. Different ones, not like freckles. Burst of lights and happiness behind my eyes. I didn't even know they were closed. 

It's over and I'm shaking. Sniffling like a baby. Jos isn't pushing me away or moving back or anything. He's close and he's staying, if just for a second.

“Okay," I say slowly, all nice and accommodating. "We don't gotta do that again."

"You don't want to?" Jos looks so offended I can't help laughing.

"No, I mean. You don't have to do that for me." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" He scowls. He's never gonna tell me nothing, I gotta suss every part of him for myself. I wonder if the Warboy has this kinda trouble. I wonder if he ever kissed Niko to calm him down. Touched him. Now I'm scowling too.

"I mean you don't have to." My face scrunches up all annoyed. "Just because you want me to stop crying or whatever."

"That's not why I did it," Jos says, and he's already getting annoyed. I hold up my hands in surrender and Jos looks at them so intently, like he could see me spilled out all over his fingers if he looks hard enough. No, it's just the inside of my pants that's a mess; I'll have to take another shower. 

"I don't know why I did it," he says finally, looking anywhere but me.

"I liked it." I figure that's obvious, but Jos looks almost happy to hear it so I keep going. "I like when you," I stop, chew at the inside of my mouth 'cause I gotta be real careful here. "I like being with you."

He's still all confused and cute. Cuter than Ryan by lightyears for sure. "With me," he says carefully, "On this ship."

"With you." I'd be happy in a cell if it was with Jos. Maybe not any cell. Not like I'd be willing to go back to _Shiva_ if Jos tagged along. Probably.

The post-sex warmth inside me starts slipping away, like pieces falling off a broken ship. Right, Cap's back. She's gonna come for the people who took her down. We've been shot out of the sky a few times now, my luck is bound to run out sooner or later. 

"Jos." I reach for him again 'cause I know I'll get away with it. Thread his fingers into mine. Jos keeps staring at our hands like he didn't know they could do all that. I don't wanna think about what Falcone did with his, or Townsend could do with hers. I just want this for another couple of seconds.

"It's not going to happen again," Jos says, quiet.

I'm shaking, but I feel my mouth move into a grin. "What's not gonna happen? The touching?"

Jos goes pink quick, just at his ears and maybe I'd go to another cell just to see that one more time. 

"You know what I mean," he says, all stern-like. "You're scared because as long as she's coming for you, you don't need to think about what's really going on."

"What's really going on?" My eyes are still so watery, but a happy kinda watery. 

"That you're safe," Jos says. He said that before too. I didn't believe him then; couldn't. I can't now either, not with Cap lingering someone just outta sight. I'm here, and we're getting attacked every other day and Jos will be back planetside and I'll be alone. 

"I don't just wanna be safe," I mumble, 'cause I don't. It would be better if Jos was here. This ship might be safe for now but it's not where I belong.

"It's not happening again," he says for the millionth time. Each time it chips something away at my insides, at this big ball of fear that sits in the center of my gut. "I won't let her take you." And then, like he just had this brilliant idea, "You can come with me." When this shift is over I am gonna sleep for a hundred sweeps. 

"'With you?'" I ask. "Where?"

"To Aaian-na," he says with almost a smile. I don't got anything to say to that. I'm definitely smiling too, like an idiot. Where I belong has been with Jos, always has been. I just never stopped for a second to think he wanted to belong with me too.

**Author's Note:**

> happy yuletide! Whenever I write for Warchild I always say its not gonna be angsty but it still ends up that way anyway oops. I was still really excited to finally write something for my WCU otp so thank you thank you thank you for the excellent prompts. I'm sorry I didn't have time to write the other happy things like teaching Evan to fight or a happy life on Aaian-na but maybe a sequel!!
> 
> Thanks again for beign a great yuletide assignment and I hope you had a wonderful holidays!


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